


Skeletons in the Closet and in the Void

by Sarcasticart



Category: Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Agender Bubby, Asexual Tommy Coolatta, Bubby and Coomer are defo married, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First work in the fandom and I’m sorry, Gordon Freeman has Trauma yall, Gordon freeman is a good dad, Gordon freeman is trying his best, He/him and they/them pronouns for Benrey, He/him and they/them pronouns for Bubby, Hurt/Comfort but it’s gonna take a bit y’all, M/M, More tags will be added as the story progresses, Nightmares, Slow Burn, Tommy Coolatta is a smart man, gordon writes fuck you letters, listen I’m real bad at tagging, postgame au, ptsd but I don’t think I’m writing it right, so I’m sorry, some gore descriptions but they aren’t very descriptive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25511740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcasticart/pseuds/Sarcasticart
Summary: Dear Fuckhead who tried to kill me and my friends,Fuck you. Fuck. You.———Gordon Freeman is a traumatized man and he needs a way to vent. So he writes letters to the one thing that almost caused his death. And hey maybe, he’ll feel better. Or maybe he’ll discover more about himself then he ever thought he would.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 60





	Skeletons in the Closet and in the Void

So far life had been pretty normal, or as normal as it could get for the Science Team. After the whole party at the restaurant, Chuck E. Cheese (and as it turns out Chuck E Cheese is considered a restaurant and an entertainment center. Gordon looked it up on Wikipedia, the free online encyclopedia that no one can edit anymore), Tommy’s dad hooked the Science Team up with compensation for all the fucked up shit Black Mesa did, and new jobs for them all. Admittedly, the pay is fucking awesome and the job is very mellow, just what Gordan needed after all that alien, U.S. military bullshit. 

The science team was also assured that there were no targets on their backs from Black Mesa. That information didn’t quiet all of Gordons anxieties, but he sure as shit was gonna hope and pray to what ever the fuck will listen that Gman was telling the truth. Gordon didn’t know what he would do if Gman was lying. 

And for the past few months, Black Mesa had been the least of his worries, same with the US Military. Dr. Coomer repeatedly told him that they wiped out the entire U.S. Military, but Gordon had reason to call bullshit on that. Whether or not it was U.S. propaganda, Gordon wasn’t sure that the military could be taken down so easily. 

Fuck, Gordon had reason to call bullshit on Black Mesa not being a threat anymore. The corporate overlords wouldn’t just let their money maker be destroyed and let the perpetrators go free. Those two entities were part of Gordon's constant paranoia. He felt that they were watching him again. Just waiting for him to put his guard down. How could he be absolutely sure that they were gone? 

But they weren’t what scared Gordon the most. The thing that Gordon was always worrying about was Benrey. And he knows that Benrey died. He was there, he saw it happen. 

Gordon Freeman had killed Benrey.

But then again, death has never stopped Benrey before. Every shadow, every creak, everything could be Benrey raised from the dead. Gordons had many sleepless nights, swearing up and down that he saw a skeleton staring at him. And he knew that it wasn’t real. But Gordon wasn’t so sure anymore. How can he be? Benrey became more of an enigma the more Gordon knew him. 

He remembered reading somewhere that writing letters to the thing that caused you hurt is one way to heal from the hurt they caused. Gordon didn’t know if this was actually true, he hadn’t been able to talk to his therapist yet. He should probably book another appointment with her, just to make sure he was fucking himself over more than he already has. 

So, Gordon sat down at his computer and opened up the document application. The cursor blinked on the blank page, filling Gordon with a sense of unease. What do you write to someone, someone who tried to kill you? 

Do you write about the effect of them? Do you write about how they make you feel like they’re always watching? About how they can’t leave your heads? About how they plague your dreams? 

No. No!

Fuck that, Benrey doesn’t deserve the satisfaction. Fuck that! Benrey fucked him up and he doesn’t deserve to know shit! In fact, Gordon is happier now that Benrey is gone. 

In his rage, Gordon typed out his letter. He hopes that the venom that dripped from his words can be read as it splashes on the page. God, if Benrey somehow ever gets to read this, Gordon hopes that he knows how much Gordon fucking hates him. So he types. Hand written is too personal. Benrey doesn’t deserve to have the satisfaction of Gordon handwriting him a note. Even if he will never see this. 

Dear Fuckhead who tried to kill me and my friends, 

Fuck you. Fuck. You. Honestly I’m glad you’re dead. Now I don’t have to hear you fucking blabber on about my fucking passport. By the way, the place that I work at now, doesn’t have fucking insane security guards who harass the scientists about stupid fucking passports. They do their fucking job, like normal fucking people. Pretty sure you weren’t even fucking human, you fucking freak. God since you’ve been gone, life has been like ten times better!

None of the science team even fucking misses you. Not Tommy, not Bubby, not Dr. Coomer, and especially not me. In fact we had a fucking party once you died!!!! So go fuck yourself, nobody fucking cares about you!!!

Gordon Freeman. 

Gordan stepped back from his computer screen, rubbing his hand through his hair.

Honestly, Gordon didn’t think he was gonna be so heated, but he had enough fuel to type out what he’d been wanting to say to the guy-alien-thing. Gordon hadn’t felt that pissed off since the whole Black Mesa thing a few months back. 

And now, Gordon didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Was he supposed to just leave it on the computer or print it out. Maybe he was supposed to burn it after. 

‘Fuck it,’ Gordon though pulling his hand away from his hair. He started the computer back up again and clicked the button to print out the letter. 

As the printer whirred to life, Gordon dug through his desk looking for an envelope and grabbed the first one he found. The paper slid out, gliding on to the floor, like a leaf on an autumn evening (and now it seems that Tommy is starting to rub off on him.)

Gordon grabbed the paper and stuffed it into the envelope, sealing it up and signing the page with Benrey’s name. That way, he wouldn’t accidentally send it out. Gordon decidedly threw the letter into the drawer next to him and called it a day. He’ll deal with it later but for now, he’s gotta go get something to eat.

Maybe he’ll call up Coomer and Bubby to see if they wanted to get dinner. Aye, Tommy could join if he wasn’t busy.

01001000

Gordon was running. He didn’t see why but he knew. 

Benrey was following him. Gordon can hear the bastard’s laugh. It was echoing around the halls of his apartment building. 

Fuck, he has to get home and protect Joshua. Oh god, he can’t let Benrey get Joshua. For the love of god, Joshua can never get near Benrey. 

“hey mini feetman. wanna play a game?” Benrey cackled. 

He’d found him. Gordon tried to pump his legs harder and harder but he wasn’t going any faster. It felt like running through glue. He was trying to move forward but the hallway seemed to stretch further. 

“Daddy!” Joshua yelled. 

“Joshua!” Gordon replied but his voice was muffled. What was Benrey doing to him? 

Then Joshua waddled out. And Benrey grabbed him and tore through his flesh. 

“No!” Gordon screamed, flying up and grabbing the air in front of him. 

It was so real. Gordon had just witnessed his baby boy, his son being killed by that fucker. He saw his son's limbs and tendons being ripped apart by a thing that almost managed to kill him. Gordon gasped for breath as he tumbled towards his computer. 

He booted it up and began typing in the doc. 

Dear Fuckhead,

Guess what? Fuck you! God I’m so fucking glad you aren’t around anymore and that I killed you! I’m so fucking glad, I’m ecstatic! You aren’t plaguing my fucking dreams anymore and you sure as shit aren’t following me arround anymore. That’s the best fucking part of it all! So once again, fuck you and go fuck yourself!

Gordon Freeman. 

Although, he was lying when he typed that letter out. Now Gordon Freeman wasn’t a lying bastard, but given his current circumstances, he gave himself a little leeway. 

Nightmares weren’t anything new to Gordon. In fact, ever since the whole Black Mesa debacle, he’d had a nightmare almost every night. And some weren’t as bad and some were absolutely, gut-wrenchingly terrifying. But that’s the way the cookie crumbles when you have trauma. 

For the last few nights his dreamscape has been plagued by visions of Benrey tormenting him. Sometimes, it's just him, other times it involves his son. The worse ones, which he won’t say to another goddamn soul, are the ones where Benrey begs him to spare him. Those ones hurt him, they make him feel guilty for what he had done. 

Gordon killed Benrey and he felt guilty about it. But he shouldn’t feel guilty! Benrey had tried to kill them! Benrey was the bad guy! Right? Right, Benrey was the bad guy and Gordon was one of the good guys. 

Sure he killed a few people to get out of Black Mesa. Well it was more than a few, he’s pretty sure he killed more people than Benrey. No, Benrey killed all those innocent scientists, but so had Gordon. 

Fuck, was he the hero? Or was he just as bad as Benrey? Was he really the villain and Benrey was right? Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuc-

Gordon was brought out of his spiral of self loathing by the buzzing of his phone. He snapped his head towards the device so fast his neck cracked. He grabbed the phone with one hand to check what it was about and the other to rub his neck. 

Bubby had sent him a photo of a moray eel with the caption “that’s you.” A chuckle slipped through his lips and into the void of his bedroom. Gordon typed out a quick, “Fuck you,” in response and shut off his phone. 

Gordon turned back to his screen and opened up a new document.

Dear Benrey,

Go fuck yourself, you dead prick.

Gordon Freeman

01000101

Dear Benrey the fuckface,

How’s death been? I hope it sucks so fucking much. I hope you’re in pain. I hope that where ever the hell you ended up in fucking blows.

Gordon Freeman

He had finished typing up his latest fuck you letter to Benrey when he heard a crash from his kitchen. 

He scrambled out of his bedroom and into the living area only to see Dr. Coomer grabbing a broom and Bubby crouching on the counter. 

“What the fuck happened!” Gordon said exasperated, surveying the room. The remnants of a glass lay on the tile of the kitchen. 

“Hello Gordon! Dr. Bubby broke a glass and I’m helping him clean it up!” Dr. Coomer greeted, holding up the broom, “I am very good at cleaning Gordon.”

“I can see that,” Gordon sighed, rubbing his fingers on his temple,“How did you get into my house?” 

“I lock-picked the door,” Bubby answered bluntly, still on the counter. 

“When did you learn to lock pick!” Gordon yelled, removing his hand from his temple, his face contorted with confusion. 

“I am more powerful than you will ever know Gordon.” Bubby responded once again before turning his attention to the floor. Dr. Coomer had already begun to sweep the floor when Tommy entered through the front door, Sunkist in tow. 

“Hi guys- hi Mr. Freeman! I brought soda!” Tommy said holding up his arm to show the mini cans he had, in fact, brought. Sunkist wagged her tail and made her way towards the kitchen to try and get pets from Coomer or Bubby. 

“Okay, did I miss the memo or something? Was today everyone-go-to-Gordon’s-house day?” Gordon asked, grabbing the dust pan to help Coomer, “Tommy, keep Sunkist out of the kitchen, Bubby dropped a glass.” Tommy nodded and patted his thigh with a free hand and Sunkist came prancing back to his side.

“No, we just wanted to stop by and fuck up your shit,” Bubby said, scooting across the counter, trying to get around the glass. 

“Did any of you think to maybe, oh I dunno, call me or shoot a text my way?” Gordon asked, grabbing the broom off of Coomer and finishing the job. 

“Oh we did Mr. Freeman we- uh we sent you a few texts actually.” Tommy said, showing his phone to Gordon. The science team did in fact shoot Gordon a text saying that they were heading over and that they were on their way. 

“Shit, sorry guys,” Gordon apologized, throwing the glass away,” I was preoccupied with something else and I didn’t see the messages.”

“That’s why you have to turn on notifications, Gordon! Notifications help alert you when someone has messaged you.” Dr. Coomer informed Gordon. Coomer held a glass filled with water, and aimed his arm towards the counter. 

Oh, it was probably for Bubby. Wait where the fuck was Bubby? Oh god if he was setting fire to the toilet again, Gordon might’ve just screamed. 

“Oh thank you, Harold,” Bubby called out, walking out of Gordons room. He grabbed the glass and Coomer gave him a peck on the cheek. How Bubby managed to get into Gordons room without Gordon noticing, Gordon couldn’t tell ya. But that reminded him. 

“Oh shit, I gotta go finish something, then we can hang out, hold on,” Gordon called out, heading back into his room. He pressed print and waited for the paper to slide out. Once it made its way out of the printer, Gordon grabbed it and shoved it in its envelope and sealed it before throwing it in the drawer where the last few letters remained. Now that that was done, Gordon could actually chill (not really, not with Bubby and Dr. Coomer,) with his friends.

“Do you guys want to watch a movie?” Gordon called out, “And no we aren’t watching Swiped again, I don’t care how funny you think it is Bubby.”

“Fuck you Gordon, I do what I want,” Bubby called back. 

Dear Benrey the fuckface,

How’s death been? I hope it sucks so fucking much. I hope you’re in pain. I hope that where ever the hell you ended up in fucking blows.

Gordon Freeman

Bubby was here.


End file.
